


a little at a time

by jonphaedrus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Catheters, Come Inflation, Eggpreg, Enemas, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Kink, Medical Torture, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oviposition, Rape, Sounding, Urethral Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:12:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14100120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonphaedrus/pseuds/jonphaedrus
Summary: Look, Ravus might not be an expert—he hasn’t read the Niflheim military code cover to cover, and he’s still just about as much of a new recruit that a commander canbe, but it doesn’t take an expert to be able to look at his current situation and go: “Yeah, this is a little fishy.” Hell, it doesn’t even take a genius, and he’s not that either. In fact, Ravus is almost certain that any sane human (so, anybody that is not thecauseof his current predicament) would, in his shoes, turn tail and run about as far as possible in the other direction.Ravus supposes, though, that the day he tried putting on the ring of the Lucii on the off-chance that it might pick him, thereby saving everybody a whole lot of pain and agony, he ceased to be included in the category of “reasonable people.” He made his own bed with this. Most “reasonable people” didn’t willingly light their arms on fire.Butstill.





	a little at a time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zotos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zotos/gifts).



> this is for jamie and it only took me a year to write
> 
> hey if youre here, you have seen the tags. you know what youre getting into. i cant stop you from reading this to point fingers and hoot at how gross it is on twitter, but i CAN ask that you @ me so i can giggle about it

Look, Ravus might not be an expert—he hasn’t read the Niflheim military code cover to cover, and he’s still just about as much of a new recruit that a commander can _be_ , but it doesn’t take an expert to be able to look at his current situation and go: “Yeah, this is a little fishy.” Hell, it doesn’t even take a genius, and he wasn't that either. In fact, Ravus was almost certain that any sane human (so, anybody that is not the _cause_ of his current predicament) would, in his shoes, turn tail and run about as far as possible in the other direction.

Ravus supposed, though, that the day he tried putting on the ring of the Lucii on the off-chance that it might pick him, thereby saving everybody a whole lot of pain and agony, he ceased to be included in the category of “reasonable people.” He made his own bed with this. Most “reasonable people” didn’t willingly light their arms on fire.

But _still_.

“This sounds absurd,” Ravus said to Ardyn, the older man currently doing something ominous of the corner of the—well, the only term Ravus could think of for it was _operating room_ , but that left him feeling more than a little nauseous. The idea of Ardyn Izunia in an operating room was the sort of scenario that basically set up a nightmare.

Ardyn looked over at him, one impeccably-plucked eyebrow arched, hand cocked on his hip. “My dear boy,” he drawled, lingering overlong on _dear_ , like it was taffy he was teasing apart on his tongue, “This isn’t something we usually do. Matigek is a complex science; you’re too human now for that arm to _ever_ take.” Ravus bristled. “Unless… Ardyn trailed off and gasped in mock shock. “Unless you changed your mind about using a living prosthetic? I’m _sure_ we could have a facsimile mocked up for you, but it would never be much of any use, although it _would_ keep you looking pretty—“

“Ardyn,” Ravus snapped. “Quit it.” Ardyn smiled a smile that, from anyone else, could have been considered _pretty_. From Ardyn it left Ravus with his skin crawling like he was covered in flames again. “Just...is all this necessary?” Ardyn had set up a room that looked like some sort of torture chamber, scalpels and other operating tools on a rolling table. There was even a stirrup chair. With straps on it. It made Ravus’ gorge rise.

“Oh, that?” Ardyn waved a disinterested hand toward the chair as he fussed with some bags of something on his rolling table. “No, that’s for other things. If this takes, we need to make use of it. But for today, no. You have no need to act so frightened, Commander. This will be essentially _painless_.” It was that _essentially_ that had Ravus worried. Watching as Ardyn turned completely back to what he had been doing, Ravus shuffled uncomfortably in the doorway to the room, shifting from foot to foot, nervous as a bride before her wedding day. Gods, possibly worse—Luna had been totally calm and collected going to Lucis, and here Ravus was almost sweating out of his skin.

“Then,” he asked, finally, “What _are_ you doing?” When Ardyn had described the procedure to graft the magitek onto Ravus’ arm a few days prior, he had been unusually cagey. Even for him.

Ardyn replied: “Have you had a prostate exam before?”

Ravus blinked.

“ _What?_ ”

“It is essentially a simple prostate exam. No need to be worried. Strip your trousers to your knees and I’ll be through before you know it.” Ardyn waved over his shoulder almost as if to say _get on with it._ “The sooner you do it the faster we’ll be out of here. Before the Starscourge blackens the sky, if you please. I know we both have other things to do today, and I’m almost certain you would prefer to spend the minimum amount of time possible with yours truly messing around in your ass.” Ardyn paused, added, “As fetching as said derriere may be.”

Ravus, against his will, glared and flushed. And then, because he had no other options, did as had been asked, one-handedly undoing his belt and tugging his trousers as far down as they would go over his boots, about halfway down his thighs. He waddled over to Ardyn, apprehensive, and found the other man would not let Ravus look at whatever it was he was actually doing.

“Trust me,” Ardyn murmured, glancing his way. “This will be far more painless for the both of us if you remain in blissful ignorance, lay back, and think of Tenebrae and _not_ what I have in this syringe. Shan’t hurt, of that you have my most solemn vow.”

“That,” Ravus replied as he leaned his forearm on the cold metal prep table, staring down at the fingers of his remaining arm, “Is just not helping.” He took a few deep breaths and tried to relax, tried to focus on anything else at all. Started counting.

“No need to be so tense,” Ardyn murmured, turning to stand just behind Ravus. The snap of him putting on his latex gloves was loud in the silence broken only by Ravus’ quick breathing. “It might be uncomfortable but it certainly will not be anything worse than you have dealt with in the course of your natural life.” He tapped the insides of Ravus’ thighs. “Legs apart, Commander.” Ravus itched to not comply, but—if the choice was to remain with one working arm through the hell that was to come, or to have to deal with whatever _this_ was going to be, well...he had rather already made his decision. He couldn’t reasonably bak out now. He knew what he had to do.

Ravus closed his eyes, bit the inside of his cheek, and spread his legs. “There you go,” Ardyn’s voice was low and warm with praise, purring, and Ravus hissed as the Chancellor slid one lubed, latex-gloved fingertip into the cleft of Ravus’ ass and pressed it into his anus. It was, thankfully, just about the least sexy thing that Ravus had ever experienced—which was a relief. It was clinical, uncomfortable, and, given who and what Ardyn was fundamentally as a person, surprisingly professional. He turned his finger back and forth, stretching Ravus’ rim outward, until Ravus was hissing between his teeth, his jaw clenched. “Breathe, Ravus,” Ardyn murmured, almost laughing. “Being this tense will get neither one of us anywhere. Believe you me, I have as little interest in doing this as you do.”

Loathe as he was to admit it, Ravus knew that Ardyn was right. He had no choice about this. Not now. Only way out was forward.

So: He took in a deep breath, clenched the edge of the table in his remaining hand, and did his level best to relax.

“There you go,” Ardyn hummed. “That’s what I needed.” He pulled away and the remaining tension seeped out of Ravus’ shoulders, he hung his head. “I would like to pre-emptively apologize,” Ardyn continued. Ravus didn’t know for _what_ exactly, until he felt the wide head of the nozzle of the syringe, unforgiving, against the rim of his ass. Cold, medical grade plastic, pushing inexorably into him. He hissed, clenched his jaw, knuckles.

The syringe widened as it slid in, and finally tapered smaller again. It was wider around at the largest point than Ardyn’s finger had been, but once it was in the worst was over, and Ravus let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He tried to shift, but stilled when Ardyn set a hand between his shoulderblades. “No,” Ardyn murmured, distracted. “Please stay still, I need you to not move. I am sorry that it is cold.” He moved his hand away. “Almost done,” Ardyn added, and then Ravus felt more than heard the plunger of the syringe compress.

Ravus moaned—reflexively, more out of surprise than anything else, maybe, because, he felt like there was a tide rising within him, pressing on the back of his throat. He shuddered, shivering because whatever was in the syringe was _cold_ , his stomach cramping. It warmed quick enough, though, and Ravus glanced over his shoulder as more came in, chilling, to look at Ardyn’s face. His lips were pursed in concentration, and he was strangely still.

“Just stay like that,” Ardyn told him. “Only a little more, and you’re done.” Ravus stilled the urge to shift. Now that the sudden pulse of the first press of the syringe was over, this situation was starting to turn from a surreal, kind of disgusting and uncomfortable night terror into just another medical procedure, albeit one more invasive than he’d experienced before. Stars knew that Ravus had been through enough weird medical experiences in his lifetime that it was easy enough to relax now that he was used to this one. Another few heartbeats and Ardyn finally murmured, “And—we’re done.”

The syringe went out a lot easier than it had gone in, and Ravus ducked his head, breathed a sigh of relief once it was out. He waited for Ardyn to move away and hitched his trousers back up as soon as he could, grimacing as whatever it was shifted around inside him, heavy and still cool. Ardyn wandered off, his footsteps accompanied by the sounds of his latex gloves snapping as he discarded them into the biohazard bin. “Now what?” Rus asked, when he could be sure his voice wouldn’t shake.

“Oh, in a few days we should know if it’s taken.” Ardyn went to wash his hands, leaned one hip against the counter. “If it does, then you are good to go on the surgery and I shall be out of your hair.”

“If—“ Ravus paused. “If _what_ takes?” Ardyn had been very taciturn about this procedure, and Ravus was starting to regret not asking what Ardyn had been doing. It had been easier to focus on the endgoal, the replacement arm, rather than the present strangeness of Ardyn with his finger up his ass. But, now that Ravus felt strangely full, his belly almost distended and bloated, he was beginning to reconsider remaining in the dark. He was starting to feel nauseous. “Ardyn—“

Ardyn turned to look at him, raised both his eyebrows almost to his hairline. “Why, the eggs, of course.”

Ravus stared at him like he had grown a second head, which was, as a concept, _absolutely fucking terrifying, actually_.

“You don’t have the Scourge, nor are you Magitek to begin with, so I had to make Verstael’s binding mechanisms work _somehow_ with this primitive technology.” Something about the way Ardyn was so completely blasé just made it even worse. Ravus would have expected him to at least be sympathetic or gentle. Ardyn’s bedside manner was fucking terrible. “Somehow I think you neither want to be _me_ ,” Ardyn gestured to himself, “Nor a Magitek trooper. So I had to take a rather unorthodox route. But this should do the job, albeit somewhat imperfectly. The technology has to accept you as a viable host to build the neuronal pathways for the arm to function as your own, so—“ and he went off onto some jargon-riddled tangent about the finer workings of magitek, daemons, Scourge. It was incomprehensible.

Ravus picked up maybe one word in ten. He had stuck, like a car with its wheels submerged in mud, on _eggs_. _Eggs._ Why had Ardyn— “Eggs?” He managed at last, choking, when he got his voice back. Ardyn paused in the middle of his tirade and smiled, showing teeth.

“Well, yes. If you incubate them properly, the chance of rejection with the arm is almost nil. You will read as daemon on almost any scanner, since you will have been able to act as a host. It only takes about a month for the eggs to hatch, and, while there are some small cosmetic changes you may have to deal with, they shall vanish on their own in a year or two. If you live that long.” Ravus ground his teeth, and Ardyn laughed his alarmingly hysteric chuckle, the one that always left Ravus with his hair on-end. “It’s not like you’ve got a long and peaceful life ahead of you. If anything, they’ll be helpful for you. Daemons are quite powerful, after all.”

Ravus.

Needed to sit down.

 

 

“You may as well just get used to this,” Ardyn told Ravus, not-unkindly, three days later as he snapped his gloves on. Ravus was beginning to find that the snap of latex gloves was probably going to make him nauseous for the rest of his life, however short that was. Three days and he’d had two more loads of eggs, each more uncomfortable than the last. Ardyn had explained, in that alarmingly calm way of his, that Ravus should get used to an intensified appetite and no bowel movements, since the eggs were absorbing all of his—well.

Today, though, Ardyn hadn’t told him to bend over. Instead, Ravus was half-naked, his feet up in stirrups on a table as the other man clacked metal implements and muttered under his breath. “I’ll be seeing you naked plenty enough before this is over, and believe me, I enjoy it about as much as you do.”

“I’d believe that,” Ravus returned, “If I wasn’t stuck doing this with you.”

“Well, Commander, it’s either me or Verstael Besithia, and I should think my educated guess as to which you would prefer isn’t far from the mark.” Ravus didn’t even bother replying, he just sighed. Ardyn snorted and said under his breath, “I thought as much.” He was so smug that sometimes Ravus just wanted to—

His train of thought derailed as something cold slid up into him. “You’re looser,” Ardyn murmured, off-hand. “That’s good.” Ravus tried not to think about how, exactly, that was not good. Now he _did_ moan, mostly in pain and maybe—no, he couldn’t—as he stretched further open, until he felt like he might tear. His skin was tight, the stretch ached, and he could feel cool air rushing inside him.

Ardyn’s head vanished down between his thighs, and Ravus officially decided that from here on in, this entire situation was too absurd for him to consider it anything but incomprehensible.

Fingers probed within him. Rravus could hear something, and gave a ragged, pained moan as Ardyn turned his fingers over and pressed up against his prostate, making him nearly gag at the hot, sick spike of pleasure that pulsed and pounded through him, made him cry out. A moment later, the pressure increased. It wasn’t the clinical warmth of Ardyn’s fingers that Ravus had become used to—it was something cold and hard. Forceps. Tweezers. It got tighter, pinching Ravus until his stomach was in knots and he felt like his cock was about to throb inside-out, his bladder aching. “Just a little more,” Ardyn murmured, in a way Ravus was sure was supposed to be reassuring, and then Ardyn wrapped his fingers around Ravus’ cock, stroked him to full hardness.

“What the fuck,” Ravus started to say, his voice bubbling up inside his throat, a little hysterical. Hot tears spilled over his lower eyelids when the pressure didn’t let up. “Ardyn, stop—“ His prostate felt like it was going to bust like a grape, that he’d be irreparably broken, that—

Ardyn pinched Ravus’ cockhead hard between two fingers, togged impossibly _backwards_ on his prostate, and Ravus yelled as he twitched, trembled, and came in a hot rush all over himself. The blinding pressure on his prostate eased at last, and Ardyn pulled his fingers back as he stood up, hip cocked against the table he’d strapped Ravus to.

Ardyn dipped his fingers into Ravus’ semen. Against the off-white of his latex glove, it looked grey, more smokelike than pearlescent. Ardyn looked it over with an appraising eye, eyebrows pinched behind the frames of his glasses, and then sniffed at it, and. Stuck his finger in his mouth.

Ravus gagged a little.

“That’s definitely taking,” Ardyn said nonchalantly as he pulled his gloves back off. “I am sure you’ll be thrilled to hear you are _done_ with eggs.” Ravus did not feel nearly as reassured by that as he should have.

“Why is my semen grey?”

Ardyn talked as he wiped Ravus up, unstrapping his legs. “You’re an incubator now, Ravus. One without the Scourge, which makes you a non-ideal host. So, the eggs are changing the makeup of your bodily fluids to be less toxic to them. As the eggs grow and spread,” (Spread?!) “They will make your body their perfect nest. Once they hatch and your body has time to purge the infection, you’ll notice no difference.” Ardyn let Ravus’ legs down, rubbing the blood back into them, and turned his back on the table at last.

“On that note, the next step is continued fertilization and feeding. You have about two-hundred eggs in there, and the weak need to weed out. But, you should still be laying plenty when all is said and done, and, since we may as well make the best of the situation, I would like as many to live as possible.” He turned back to Ravus. “Turn onto your side, if you’d be so kind.”

Ravus had honestly given up. He rolled over, because there was pretty much nothing else he _could_ do. Ardyn pulled over an IV stand with a bag full of black liquid hanging from the hook. Ravus didn’t even react as Ardyn slid the end of the tube inside him, just closed his eyes as he felt Ardyn feeding the nozzle further into him until it bumped up against the eggs deeper inside him. He grunted as something by his entrance started to inflate, pumping his ass until it was stretched wide again around it, skin aching. “This will be cold,” Ardyn warned, just before the first burst of fluid that felt icy rushed into him, filling the remaining space of his ass before it started to drip deeper, into the crush of eggs that had filled his colon.

Ardy was talking again, and Ravus could not bear to listen, overwhelmed as he was by the feeling inflated by the fluid that was rushing inside him. The whatever-it-was just kept coming, impossible amounts of it, until Ravus opened his eyes and rolled over slightly to watch the fluid drain out of the bag. As he watched, Ardyn pinched the end of the tube, pulled it free of the first, and hung up a second, hooking Ravus back up to it. Ravus glanced down at his stomach, his hand pressed to it. He looked a few months pregnant, the fluid and the eggs filling him up uncomfortably so, and he whimpered in pain as he looked back to see Ardyn hanging up two more bags, for a total of four. “A quart each,” Ardyn explained, noticing Ravus’ wide-eyed look of horror. “Not easy to get in these quantities, mind you. Took weeks.” Ravus whimpered.

He didn’t know how it was going to all _fit_ , but as he watched, bit by bit, the second bag drained. Ravus was freezing cold, the fluid dropping his internal body temperature. He looked pregnant, distended and swollen. Still it came, dripping, until finally the bag was empty and Ardyn patted Ravus’ stomach. He yelped, shifting as his skin tensed, wiggled, and pressure sagged onto his bladder.

“That all has to stay three days,” Ardyn told him cheerily. “I’ll plug you up, but you’ll likely wish to stay abed.”

“Why can’t you just flush them out after,” Ravus panted, when he had his breath back, his lungs inflating with aching slowness with all the weight on them. “Rather than making me _lay_ them.”

“Oh.” Ardyn was grinning. Ravus could hear it in his voice. “Had I not mentioned? They’ve bonded to your soft tissue. Either you lay them, commander, or they shall die in you.”

Ravus gave up the ghost. He buried his face in his hands and had a very quiet breakdown.

 

 

Three days later, Ardyn drained him, like Ravus was an over-full tub, and then the day afterward, he got his arm. For a time it seemed as if the nightmare was finally over. The eggs just had to grow now—to gestate, he supposed, even if thinking that word made him almost unreasonably upset. His arm was everything he could have wanted, and dealing with Besithia for the attachment was almost easier than dealing with Ardyn for the process prior. Besithia asked no probing questions, didn’t glance at Ravus except for at his stump, and Ravus found soon enough that, frankly, he did not miss the Chancellor’s touch in the slightest.

Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret and his clawed hand and his stretched-open ass. Occasionally, Ravus would reach his human fingers back to feel it, wincing as his fingertips encountered the gape of his sphincter, wide enough that two fingertips slid in totally dry. Yet, the eggs seemed totally content to do nothing of substance. To wait. And, over time, Ravus grew used to their weight, to the pressure inside of him that made it difficult to eat too much at a time, that sent him running to piss almost hourly. He almost came to _like_ it.

And then they began to grow.

At first, the changes were nearly imperceptible—a little more water weight, being a little hungrier as his old appetite returned. His ass began to gape more, until it no longer would close all the way at alll, and the tender swelling of that sensitive flesh that constantly scraped up against the seam of his boxers was the least bearable part.

And, one day, Ravus discovered that his waistband no longer quite fit. He tired to do up the top button of his fly but, try as he might, the damn thing wouldn’t stay. And then, a few days later, he started eating an extra meal. He began extra combat training—first an hour, then two, daily. When he met with prince Noctis, got to use his arm in the field for the first time, the heady burst of power it left him with sent him reeling.

It was inhumanly strong, and so was Ravus. He was powerful beyond his wildest imagination. All the things he’d hoped for when he’d so long ago put on the Ring of the Lucii paled to the tangible here and now and the strength in his body and veins.

But, after the Prince and his retinue had left, and Ravus found himself alone with Ardyn for the first time in weeks, he finally noticed another change.

The Chancellor smelled _sweet_. Something not unlike the darkness of black coffee, unique to his presence. Ardyn noticed, of course. “You seem to be taking to that burden quite well,” he commented to Ravus, in that aggravatingly offhanded way of his. “Both the arm...and the other one.” Ravus stared at him—at the narrow cut of his high cheekbones, the soft curl of his hair, the hard, unfeeling edge of his eyes.

Ardyn was smiling knowingly. “You want something, Commander?” Ravus ground his teeth—would Ardyn truly make him debase himself so, put words to the horror that rested at the top of his throat? “You look like you have something on your mind, Ravus. A gil for your thoughts, dear boy? Do share with the class.” Ravus glared balefully at the other man, because he might have given up almost everything of himself but, gods damn it, he still had his honor.

“Am I strong enough to save Luna?” Ravus said instead, and silently, he apologized to his sister for making her his scapegoat. She deserved better than to be the cover for his lie. He clenched his fist, and raised his new arm for Ardyn to look at. “With this?”

Ardyn tutted. “I think you can probably answer that one for yourself, don’t you?” Ravus ground his teeth. “Why do you ask?” There was Ardyn’s mocking eyebrow, that hot flush of shame in Ravus’ stomach. “Is there something you want from me?”

Ravus had long ago given up any delusions he might have had about how his life would end. He would not live to see Noctis take up the Throne of Light (if he even could, and Ravus had his suspicions). He probably wouldn’t be able to save Luna, either, but he would do his best or die trying. Therefore, he wasn’t afraid of what might be waiting in his future—it was hard to be scared of a gristly death if you knew it was waiting impatiently just out of sight.

“Make me stronger,” Ravus growled, when what he really meant was something darker, grittier, less of strength and power and more of primal, unsated hunger. “Whatever you have to do to make that happen.” He grabbed Ardyn’s collar, pulled him closer.

Ardyn was grinning, like a shark smelling blood, and he laughed, high and manic. “Oh, Ravus. You’ve no idea how delighted I am by the prospect. In fact, it’s like all my birthdays came at once.” Ardyn trailed his fingers down Ravus’ chest to the top of his stomach, where Ravus was most bloated with eggs, and pressed down. Something primal inside Ravus flinched. “I should be delighted. Whenever you’re ready, I am—“ and here he paused, drawing out a breath that lasted for heartbeats, “Just _shuddering_ in anticipation.”

When they returned to Gralea, Ravus found himself once again flat on his back on a table in some deep dark testing room,fighting down instinctual panic as he watched Ardyn put on gloves and a facemask, his thick hair pulled back from his face. “I’ll try to make this quick and painless,” he promised, and Ravus just closed his eyes, tried to relax.

At least Ardyn’s hands were warm as they probed between his legs, one hand holding Ravus’ soft cock up against the base of his stomach and out of the way as he worked, while the fingers of his other hand reached down to his ass. Ravus breathed a pained breath when the fingers pulled his stretched-out puffy rim wide, peeled him open, and then slid inside. Ardyn kept pressing up and in until Ravus was almost hyperventilating around four fingers, biting his lip to bleeding.

His ass was wide open without lube, and Ardyn had four fingers in him up to the knuckle.

“This is some very good progress,” Ardyn commented, pulling his hands back and lubing up down to the wrist. “That means the fertilization probably took on quite a few of the eggs, although we shall have to keep trying if you _really_ want to see results.”

“Sure,” Ravus said, in the way you do when you’re so far out of your depth that you don’t know what to say.

“Let me see how they’re growing,” Ardyn mumbled, as if talking to himself, and if Ravus had been able to get any sound at all out of his throat he would have screamed at what happened next. As it was, he almost felt the air rush wholesale out of his chest as Ardyn pulled his rim wide again and then _shoved_ the other in, twisting as he did so. In, up. To the rim with the width of his knuckles. “This may sting a little,” Ardyn told him, “But you’re quite loose, so no need to worry.”

With that, Ardyn narrowed his hand, turned, and kept pushing. Ravus could feel the curve of Ardyn’s thumb breaching his rim. His ankles, strapped down, were the only things keeping Ravus from trying to escape as Ardyn slid deeper until his thumb eased all the way inside. At the widest point of his hand, Ravus felt like Ardyn was going to tear his ass, that he was barely stretching.

Seeing his distress, Ardyn laughed. “Oh, Ravus. You’ll have to get used to this, I’m afraid. The eggs you’re incubating will hatch larger than this.”

And then his hand popped inside.

Ravus fell limply back on the table, wailing in pain, as Ardyn let him adjust. He was humming as he felt about inside of Ravus, still pushing in until he was past the latex of his glove, his skin warm against Ravus’ throbbing rim. Still he pushed deeper, Ravus crying now as Ardyn’s fingers probed at the end of his rectum toward the entrance of his colon, and then Ardyn pushed through, hand curling to wrap inside him, in past his second sphincter without Ravus’ body giving any complaint. It just _opened_.

Now that Ardyn’s fingers seemed to be deep enough, his face got thoughtful, and whatever the other man was doing inside of him made Ravus feel like his insides were being rearranged. “They’re growing quite well. I think you’ve culled perhaps half of the weakest. Should we fertilize perhaps...oh, every other day, I should think, you may be able to reduce to the viable bunch within the month.” His hand still deep inside Ravus, he slid the fingers of the other in, Ravus shrieking again as his rim widened around now the Chancellor’s forearm and two of his fingers, as Ardyn pushed up against his bladder from within.

With his prostate so painfully crushed, Ravus sobbed in half-arousal, half-agony. It was so much he felt nauseous. “This, however, may be quite an issue.” Ardyn pinched Ravus’ bladder again, hard enough that he pissed all over his own stomach, and Ravus covered his face in humiliation. “A few of the smaller ones seem to have migrated to your bladder, to avoid the competition within your colon. We’re going to have to get them out, although I doubt that it shall be a particularly enjoyable process.” Ardyn, finally, pulled his hand back out of Ravus’ ass, and his hard cock throbbed none-too-gently as the widest part of Ardyn’s hand popped back out of him.

Ardyn shucked his gloves into the trash, and pulled on new ones, clapping his hands. “So! First things first, you need to loosen up that tight ass of yours. I assume you don’t want me fisting you twice daily, so I shall give you a toy to push in there. You should sleep with it in until it’s an easy fit, and then we shall up in size. As for the mess with your urethra...” Ardyn pulled over another of those black bags, fussing intently with it, and slid a small plug into the ruined, dripping gape of Ravus’s ass.

Ardyn started to inflate the plug. Very soon it was wider around than Ardyn’s hand had been, and Ravus could feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fought to focus on the other man’s words. “That will be a slightly more...complex challenge.”

Ravus, partly out of his mind with the pleasure of the stretch in his ass, still managed to blanch. He did not like the sound of that. At all.

“You know how a catheter works,” Ardyn continued, totally conversationally. Like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Insert tube. Urine comes out. Yes?”

“I try not to think about it,” Ravus agreed. Ardyn nodded.

“Well, regardless, that is what we shall have to do to get those pesky little migrators out. Add a bit of suction, and I believe they shan’t bother you any longer. Problem is, however, that your urethra is...” Ardyn paused to tap his chin thoughtfully, as if trying to pick the right words. “Tight,” he settled on, at last. “Far too tight for those eggs. Loathe as I am to admit it, in an egregious lapse of judgment I have become quite fond of you, and I don’t want to put you through any additional anguish.”

“Thanks,” Ravus managed.

Ardyn didn’t read his sarcasm—or, if he did, he chose to ignore it. He waved one hand lazily. “Oh, dear boy, it is, in fact, quite entirely my pleasure. No need to thank me. However, that said, the only solution seems to be aggressive sounding. In a week or two, if we go at it quite intently, you will likely be loose enough to remove this batch.

Ravus swallowed. “Ardyn,” he said, staring at the ceiling, “What is _sounding_?”

Ardyn told him, and Ravus very suddenly wished he could just fall through the floor.

“I can show you how,” Ardyn said, in a tone that was probably supposed to be reassuring but failed, as he squeezed Ravus’ knee. “I’ve done it myself quite a few times before. It can be a pleasurable experience, if you are so inclined.” Ravus did not need to know that. That factoid was in his top-ten worst things he’d never needed to know.

“No,” Ravus managed, his voice cracking, “I think I can figure that out myself.” He was trying, in vain to erase the image of _Ardyn, sounding,_ and _pleasure_ from his brain, but they were now sealed forever into his subconscious. Ardyn pouted at him. Of course he was let down. Of course.

“Well, your call. Certainly, then, I’ll put one in right now while I’m fertilizing the eggs—just a small one, to get used to the feeling.” Ravus hated this? “You need to hold it for, oh, I think about a half hour? It’s a gallon again, so please, get comfortable.” Ravus was still hard, his ass blown up with abandon, and Ardyn was making cold daemon-spunk flow into his intestines. It was surreal. Ardyn handed him his phone. “So you don’t get bored,” he explained cheerily. “Hang tight and it shall all be over before you know it.”

The worst part, unsurprisingly, was when Ardyn slid the sound into his dick, the cold metal inching deeper inside him through gravity alone, leaving him trembling all over and biting the inside of his cheek to bleeding. When it settled all the way, Ravus’ dick was totally soft, and the sound pressed hard to his prostate—hard enough to make his eyes water. Not for the first time, Ravus stared up at the ceiling, unseeing, and wondered _what the fuck_ he was doing.

 

 

His dick hurt. It was sore and raw and _aching_ and he hated it. He hated how hard it made him when, every night, he slid the sound in. He hated how much he had come in the last two weeks, until every single “treatment” with Ardyn had turned into Ardyn filling Ravus with fertilizer until he was crying, and then putting a catheter in his dick and squeezing fertilizer in there, too, to make Ravus’ bladder huge and sore.

The first time Ardyn had undone the clamp and Ravus had helplessly peed out the tube and onto Ardyn’s gloved hands, he had cried. The last time, his orgasm had been so powerful he had almost blacked out.

“Two centimeters should do it,” Ardyn had murmured under his breath as he had fucked Ravus’ dick with the sound. It was huge, almost as wide as Ravus’ smallest finger. “But just to be safe, let’s take another week. I think we can get you to four centimeters, and that should make the process of expulsion a relatively painless one.”

At four centimeters, his urethra was so open that Ravus could stick his fingertip in and fuck it. He felt nothing but a constant building pressure against his prostate as the eggs grew. He couldn’t pee—the eggs that filled his bladder so tight it felt like it might burst were sucking that up, feeding on his waste—but his cock constantly dripped grey ooze. He was too open, too wide.

Ardyn finally decided he was ready.

The next day, Ardyn strapped in Ravus’ hands when he got on the table, tied him tight to the frame below him. “This will hurt, my dear boy,” he said, as he slid a suction cup over the mushroom head of Ravus’ cock, the enema bag hanging above his head, full to two gallons so that there would be enough internal pressure that the eggs would evacuate nice and easy. “They should be about eight centimeters now, but that’s untenable, so we shall just have to hope that they squish.”

“ _They_?” Ravus asked, and then Ardyn turned on the suction. At first, it was just a pleasurable feeling, like he was jacking off the head of his cock gently, but then, Ardyn turned the dial and—

Ravus felt like his cockhead was about to come off. He was so full that every time he moved he could feel himself sloshing inside, his intestines stretched wide, his ass inflated to the width of almost two fists. Ardyn’s hand was on his cock, squeezing.

The first thing to move into the base of his dick was huge. Ravus could see it, a dark spot under his pale skin. He could _feel_ it, too. His urethra stretched as the thing slid out, inching slowly free of him. Ravus was screaming in agony, Ardyn’s thumb dug into the side of his cock as the other man coaxed the thing out. Ravus cried as it moved through him, until it crossed into his glans and popped out slowly. An ugly, goopy larvae slid free of his urethra, dripping out of his slit, slick and cold, and then oozed as it fell directly into the tube.

Two more came, then, back to back. His urethra felt huge, gaping. They took their time in crawling out of him. “There you go,” Ardyn whispered on the fifth, as Ravus screamed through what felt like his cock coming apart. His body was so full he felt like he was drowning. “Oh, beautiful. They’re striking specimens, you should be very proud.” By the eighth larvae, Ravus could see how huge and open his slit was, his cockhead a bisected by yawning darkness. Still the larvae came, until his urethra could not even wink closed, oozing continuously into the suction pump.

Ravus left like he was going mad. His bladder, finally empty, deflated for the first time in months, and it ached and burned with the stretch. His urethra would never again hold anything, he was sure. He would drip forever. He was ruined.

“Oh, seems the last is stuck,” Ardyn murmured. He wandered off as Ravus stared blankly at the ceiling, his cock burning, aching as he dripped ooze. Ardyn returned, and slid a catheter wider than Ravus’ thumb into his slit, ignoring his agonized screams.

Eventually, Ravus just blacked out.

When he came to, there was a comforting pressure in his bladder. “I inflated it a bit for you, until you can produce some of your own urine again,” Ardyn explained. “To keep you from feeling quite so odd.”

Ravus lay there, panting for breath, staring at the ceiling. He listened as Ardyn puttered around the room, humming quietly to himself as he cleaned up, throwing medical equipment into sinks, shucking latex gloves, mumbling plans. Ravus listened, but did not really hear, as he lay with his hand on his stomach, feeling the pulse of the creatures that had taken up residence inside his body. “What now?” He asked, at last, looking toward Ardyn, who came to his side, leaned over him, gently smoothed the hair back from his forehead.

“Why, my dear,” Ardyn told him, as gently as you would a child, “we are just getting started. You still have a great deal more work to do.” Ardyn smiled, and tilted Ravus’ face up, leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “But don’t worry. I’ll be certain it’s all just as much fun as this was.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr/twitter @jonphaedrus


End file.
